To Seduce A Serpent The Diary Of Pansy Parkinson
by Mrs.HarryPotter12
Summary: Seducing Draco Malfoy is like playing with fire and praying you don't get burnt. Many girls prettier and much more well endowed than me have tried and gotton burnt. Well, burn me because I'm playing with fire. AU
1. The Plan

To Seduce a Serpent- The Diary of Pansy Parkinson

"Pansy," Mother said sternly, ushering me into her private chambers. The draperies were drawn, the only light coming from the three candles on the small table in the center of the room. She sat me on the edge of her bed and looked me in the eyes. "Lucius Malfoy has gone too far this time. I want you to seduce the boy. His parents will do anything to stop this, and we are going to take them for all they have." Her blood red nails shone in the soft light and she laughed chillingly, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. "They must pay for this, do you understand? You are going to bring the Malfoys to their knees."

September 1997

The Day Before School Begins

Basic Outline:

The plan: Seduce Draco Malfoy and dump him. Bringing his family to their knees in the process

The reason: Lucius Malfoy, who has been making terrible deals with my mother for the past two years, has double-crossed her. This made her mad, so she plans to use me for revenge. Thanks Mother.

The problem: I fancy him, I have since the first time I saw him on the train.

I'm in deep shit.

Last night, the night before I'm to go back to Hogwarts, she ushers me into her room. "Pansy," Mother said sternly, "Lucius Malfoy has gone too far this time. I want you to seduce the boy. His parents will do anything to stop this, and we are going to take them for all they have." Her blood red nails shone in the candlelight and she laughed, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I hate the way my mother laughs. "They must pay for this, do you understand? You are going to bring the Malfoys to their knees."

I agreed to the plan, of course. What else was I supposed to do? She was doing everything short of tying me up and lashing me. She said, "That's my little girl, go on now and get ready."

I trudged out of her room and to my own. As soon as the door was shut and a pillow was secured in front of my face, I screamed. Sometimes she is the most outrageous woman in the world. I'm not 'her little girl' anymore, I'm not anyone's 'little girl anymore'! She refuses to understand that!

Trying to seduce Draco Malfoy is like setting your robes on fire and praying you don't get burnt. It's just not something one does if they want to stay alive. Many girls in my house have tried, all failing. I'm not sure he has even gone on a date before, let alone been with anyone. However, that's what makes him Slytherin's playboy; he's practically untouchable.

After my scream, I looked at myself in the mirror, making a list of my positive and negative attributes. I had to start trying to cover up the negative if this was going to work, and by the way Mother was looking at me, if this doesn't work, I'm dead.

My hair has darkened a bit (try to black); it's not as painfully dirty brown as it used to be. Thanks to the special starvation diet Mother put me on; I've lost quite a bit of weight. My pug nose hasn't changed, neither have my incredibly thin lips and my breasts haven't grown at all, but at least I can fit into a smaller robe size. I doubt Millicent Bullstrode can say the same. My skin doesn't have a bad texture, but that's something that can be fixed with a bit of magic, so it's not that big of a deal.

So, after that, I began packing. I could probably get the House Elves to do it for me, but I like putting things in my trunk. It's like locking a piece of yourself away from the rest of the world. After the standard items (schoolbooks, robes, my uniform, parchment, quills, etc.) I began the part I enjoy most. The packing of the pretty things.

Yesterday, I bought three dress robes. The first is silver, and the fabric is so light and silky it feels like you aren't wearing anything. The second is black, and the third it my favorite. It's dark green, and has several intricate hooks going down the front that are silver with emerald and ruby inlays. So, I folded those and carefully placed them in the pouch on the inside of the lid. Next comes my guilty pleasure: Muggle trousers.

I've worn dress robes, lace knickers, garters and other forms of torture devices invented in the name of beauty (by men, might I add) all my life. Muggle trousers, especially the ones they call sweatpants, are the most comfortable things ever. I never, of course, wear them when other people can see them. If Mother found out, she'd probably kill me. So, I shoved them to the bottom.

The next item has to be packed in absolute secret. Before I pulled it out of the box, I locked my door and drew my draperies. You never know what lengths my mother would go to control my life. So, after the necessary precautions were taken, I pulled the box off the top shelf of my closet.

Two years ago, I had to sit with Draco Malfoy, his two minions and Daphne Greengrass on the train. Draco left the compartment with Crabbe and Goyle to harass Potter, and Daphne fell asleep, leaving me to amuse myself. Draco had left his trunk open, and I 'accidentally' looked inside.

It was immaculately organized, obviously a House Elf's doing, and sitting on top was a white school shirt. On the collar, DM was embroidered in fancy blue stitch. Before I could stop myself, I grabbed the shirt and stuffed it in my bag. I had just gotten the trunk shut when he walked back in. His nose was bloodied, and his fist was cut up. He swore a bit, opened his trunk and took out a handkerchief. My face flushed, I thought he'd notice but he never did. Well, at least if he did, he never said anything.

The minute I opened the box I could smell him. I'd placed a preservation charm on it so the smell would remain even after I'd washed it. It was a clean, almost woodsy type smell. The spell kept it sharp, so it wafted off the shirt. I unfolded it, let the knot on my dressing gown loose and when it fell, I slipped the shirt on.

The bottom hits mid-thigh, and the material is thin, but it feels like heaven against my skin. I stuck my nose in the sleeve and inhaled. I love that smell. After my little break, I continued packing. The shirt was always the last thing I packed, after I wrapped it in a layer of enchanted paper and put several charms on it. I'm not about to let anyone know I have it, let alone tell him I stole it.

So, after everything was securely packed, I placed several charms on it and dragged it to my door. The House Elves will come and get it tomorrow, and the driver will unload it and help me wheel it to the train. Most students pack theirs away in a different car, but most of us (the Slytherins, that is) keep our trunks with us, for safety reasons, of course. Can't have any rowdy first years sneaking back and rifling through our things now, can we?

Alas, I forgot this little diary. Mother wants me to keep a log of how everything is going, but I'm having such fun confessing my dirty little secrets I might just have to lie to her. It wouldn't be the first time…

Pansy, but you can call me the future Slytherin heartbreaker

XxXxX

****

September 1997

On The Train, Bored Out of My Wits

Mother woke me at four o'-bloody-clock this morning and demanded I begin to get ready for the day. After forcing me into a scalding hot tub of water, she went about, fixing my hair and face, instructing me on the 'proper' way to seduce a boy. She criticized everything about me, right down to the way I walk, and she wonders why I'm such an 'ungrateful little brat.'

The minute we stepped onto the platform, I saw Draco standing at the edge with his father. He had his head bent, listening as his father spoke. Lucius' face wasn't its usual pale, composed self, it was red and twisted. Draco's was calmed and composed, but he seemed deep in thought.

I hadn't realized how long I had been staring at him until Blaise Zabini crashed into me with his cart full of luggage. He, of course, shouted at me for being a sluggish pig or whatever he said. I'd learned to ignore Zabini a long time ago; actually, it was after he'd confessed he had taken a fancy to me in our third year. He tried to kiss me, I slapped him, he called me a frigid bitch, I ignored him, it drove him crazy and I learned if one ignores the self-proclaimed king of Slytherin, one could drive him crazy.

Of course, Mother was nowhere to be found during our exchange of profanities.

As he was rounding the 'frigid bitch' part of the shouting match, a stern voice from behind me called, "That's no way to talk to a lady, is it Blaise?"

I knew immediately whose voice that was. "Hullo Draco," I replied, plastering a smile on my face as I turned around. "Fancy seeing you here." Actually, it was great seeing him again because he had _filled out _a bit, if you catch my drift. He was a few inches taller, immaculately dressed, per usual, and just as devastatingly handsome as he had been last year. Only better looking. And judging by the looks he was getting from others in the female population, I wasn't the only one who thought so.

He smirked back. "Fancy seeing you here. Haven't been doing anything dangerous of late, have we? What after the broom incident, I've been afraid to let you near one by yourself."

I blushed, recalling how last year I had made a complete idiot of myself by getting on a broom during Christmas break. I had little experience with it, so I managed to fall off, into a snow bank. My robes had hitched up, flashing my knickers to everyone. It was horrible, and since this day, he has never let me live it down. "Don't blush so," he whispered, his lips dangerously close to my face. "I rather enjoyed the show." He straightened himself up and walked on, as if nothing had happened.

I, however, didn't recover as quickly. It felt as if my skin was on fire, and my breathing got a bit short. No one, luckily, seemed to notice.

I hauled my things onto the train, careful to not scratch the polish on my trunk. I can't have my things looking like Weasley's. Speaking of him, he's grown another four inches or so. I doubt he can fit through the door anymore. I didn't see Potter anywhere, but it's not as if he's going to miss his last year. He's probably moping around some place. As if I care. I saw the bushy haired sidekick too, Granger. Apparently she's Head Girl, and she was waving her badge around in front of Weasley in a rather disgusting display of 'I'm better than you so listen to me'. Ugh, I always told myself I'd die the day that Muggleborn became Head Girl, but yet, here I am, complaining about it. I'm still alive. Damn.

So, after seating myself in the usual compartment, I was joined by Daphne Greengrass and Victorie Flint. We chatted about our summers (Daph went to Paris with her mother, she wrote me all summer complaining about how many Muggles she'd seen sauntering around like they owned the place) and equally bitched about how unforgiving our parents are. When the train started to move, Daphne left for the lavatories, leaving me with Victorie.

She's a sixth year, and Marcus Flint's younger sister. She's inherited the better looks in the family, though, because she doesn't have the hook nose or deep set eyes. I've never really paid much attention to her, but after five minutes alone with her, I know why. She's horribly, horribly boring. I mean, I almost died listening to her rattle on about her pet rabbit and how it ate her school robes last year.

Half way through her epic, Draco and idiots one and two popped in. Draco had his school robes on, and that's when I realized he was Head Boy this year. "Head Boy?" I mouthed as Victorie began to retell the story to Crabbe and Goyle. They were fascinated by it, go figure. I guess simple minds think alike.

He pointed at the badge and smirked. "I've got to work with Granger though, it's a shame they didn't give it to a Slytherin girl. They're so much easier to work with." He was whispering, so I had to lean in closer to hear him. "How was your summer?" he asked suddenly. "I assume you heard our parents are in a fight?"

"Yes," I replied, my voice as soft as his. "I'm supposed to stay away from you," I lied, trying to cover the blush creeping up my neck. Damn my fair skin.

"Me too," he confessed, grinning wickedly. "But when's the last time you listened to your parents?"

I didn't respond, I didn't feel it necessary, because the moment he said it, I knew he was only here because it would upset his father. That made me angry, for some reason. I knew his motive, and while him being around me would be useful for the plan I was to execute, it made me nervous. I don't know why.

He left awhile ago, claiming he had Head duties to perform, but Crabbe and Goyle are still listening to Victorie. She's thrilled to have an audience with a lower IQ than herself. Blaise and Daphne went off somewhere when they realized Victorie wasn't going to shut up, and I'm so bored, I'm half tempted to stab her with this quill and get it over with. I need to find some better friends (at least ones that include me in their escape plans) and the food cart. That starvation diet is over once I find it, let me tell you…

Pansy, Queen of Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin Pies


	2. Executing Said Plan

September 1997

The Dormitories, Everyone Else Is Asleep and I'm Bored

So, the Welcoming Feast was a disaster. Daphne and Blaise sat at the farthest end of the table, meaning I was all alone with Crabbe and Goyle. They're a joy to talk to, really they are. They just sit there and pick their nose when you try and complain about how pointless and boring the entire event is. Dumbledore rambled on about something or other pertaining to something stupid. I never pay attention. Daphne betrayer usually fills me in, but she was too busy with Blaise to notice the death glares I was graciously bestowing upon her back. Stupid Daphne…

The food (thank Merlin) came just as I thought I was going to starve to death. Naturally, I couldn't find the stupid food trolley, so I had to wait for the Feast to eat. When I write mother I'll tell her it was self control. Ha-ha, self control…

So, after I helped myself to the pudding (it was delightful, mind you) and stuffed my face full of whatever was next to it (delightful as well) Daphne the Traitor and Blaise Snottyknickers joined me and we went up to the dormitories.

"Get enough pudding?" Blaise sneered. "I saw you stuffing your face. It was revolting."

"Sort of like your looks," I replied, rolling my eyes. "The greasy, slicked back hair and nose up your arse attitude are so last year."

"Since when did you become the fashion expert?" he snapped, reaching up to touch his hair.

"Since you went back in the closet," I mumbled. He's such a drama queen.

"Break it up you two," Daphne scolded, stepping in between us. "You're setting a bad example for the first years."

"Since when did you care about what examples we set?" I asked her, linking our arms. "We are the bad ones, we do what we want, whenever we want and we don't care who sees. Remember?"

"That was before my little sister came into the picture," Daphne whispered, looking back at her little sister Darla. "She tells Mother and Father everything I do."

Merlin, I'm glad I'm an only child. Little siblings are so overrated. "Daphne, where's your sense of adventure? We're seventh years! No one cares what we do!"

"If I want a cut in the family fortune I better care about what other people think of what I do," she whispered, casting another glance back at her sister. Darla looks a lot like Daph, except Daph has her father's amazing blue eyes while Darla has her mother's brown ones. And Darla carries herself like a scared little baby while Daphne carries herself like a queen. Well, more like a princess, being as I'm the queen. "And besides, if I have perfect grades this year, I'm going to Milan all by myself this summer."

I rolled my eyes. Daphne's mother is such a control freak, I've been going places by myself since I was fifteen. "Well, I guess you'll have to behave yourself. But just because you do doesn't mean I have to. I plan on being as bad as possible, and if you don't want to join me, I'll find someone else."

Daphne glared at me, but I didn't care. She found Blaise, I'll find someone to enjoy the wonders of being bad with.

We reached the statue and Blaise (he's a Prefect I think) mumbled the password (this week it's Bogsroot) and we followed him inside. It's just as I remembered it, but when the itty firsties saw it, they started chattering and whispering and it completely ruined my wonderful reverie of the first time I'd seen it. Damn those pipsqueaks. Sure, once upon a time ago I was like that, but can't they keep it down a little bit? Can't they see I'm trying to evoke peaceful memories here?

Draco stormed in at about that time and hurled himself onto one of the couches. Crabbe and Goyle walked up and stood behind it in their bodyguard manner, and I perched my little arse on the very edge at the bottom. Blaise and Daphne took the couch across from us, and Draco lifted his head. "What, nothing to say Parkinson?" he sneered. "Usually you're all over me by now."

"What, like this?" I asked innocently, standing up and walking to his end of the couch. I placed my knee on one side of his waist and threw the other one over him so I was sitting on top of his stomach (washboard flat, might I add). "Happy now?" I asked, sticking out my lower lip a bit.

His jaw went slack and his eyes widened. I smirked at him, and when I heard the little giggles, I realized the stupid little firsties were watching. I managed not to blush (too much, at least) as I climbed off him and took my seat at the very edge of the couch. But when I looked back at Draco, he blushed.

Score one for Queen Pansy.

We were all quiet for a minute before Draco stuttered about his meeting with Dumbledore. He avoided looking my way, so it was obvious I'd gotten to him. Even Daphne gave me a curious look, so I mouthed 'I'll tell you later' at her. She didn't get it, and leaned closer. I guess she thought I was whispering. I shook my head and glared at her, and she finally got it. Ugh, I'm surrounded by idiots…

So after Blaise and Draco finished their long, boring conversation about something or other, Draco stood up and said he had to go back to the Head Dorms. He sat up, but before he stood up, I grabbed the collar of his robes and pulled him to me. "I want a private tour," I whispered, hoping I sounded seductive. It must have worked because his neck flushed, and when I let go of his collar he jumped up and hurried out of the room.

I grinned. This was too easy. If I had known Draco Malfoy could get so shook up over something like this I would have tried this act years ago. Of course, tomorrow I'd probably be the one rushing out of the room to get away from him, but can't a girl bask in her glory for a moment or two?

So, Daph and I trekked up the stairs to our dorms, she began giving me the third degree. "What was that!" she gasped in between laughs. "He practically ran out of the room! What did you say?"

"Well," I began, shrugging. "He said the Head Dorms were magnificent and I just said I wanted a private tour."

She cracked up and grabbed the rail. "Pansy, that's-" laugh "that's-" laugh "horrible!" She bent over and clutched her stomach, but her laughter rang through the stairwell.

I pulled her up and slapped her across the face. "Daph, it's not that funny," I told her, grabbing her elbow and helping her up the stairs. The slap didn't help, she was still laughing so hard I thought she might blow up. "Daph, Daph, woman get a hold of yourself!" I shouted, shaking her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, tears coming out of the corners of her eyes. "You should have seen his face, I've never seen Draco Malfoy look so uncomfortable!"

"Was there a 'Pansy, you're a genius' in there somewhere?" I asked, her laughter becoming contagious.

She got down on her knees and actually bowed down to me. Then I lost it. We stumbled into our dorms, shaking with laughter.

"What's so funny?" Millicent Bulstrode demanded, her bed creaking as she wobbled off. Charlene Borgin and Beatrix Bole (the other two girls we're forced to share this room with) walked over to us, and we sobered up immediately. There's nothing like a bunch of big, ugly girls to sober you up.

"Nothing," I told them, holding my head up high. Charlene rolled her eyes and glared at me. We've had a bit of a rivalry going on since Theodore Nott called me the Queen of Slytherin last year. I guess she thinks she's hot shit. "Now if you don't mind, Daph and I have more important things to attend to than the questioning looks of you lot."

Daph smiled and marched to her bed, and I did the same. See, here in Slytherin we don't keep our things in trunks, we have wardrobes to put them in. Daph and I share one, which is good because now I can fit into her clothes (thanks Mother, even though I hated every minute of that damned diet). She won't know what hit her…

__

Pansy, Queen of Daphne the Traitor's Wardrobe

XxXxX

September 1997

The Dormitories, Watching As Everyone Scrambles To Find Their Clothes

This morning I awoke an hour before everyone else so I could shower and get Daphne's good clothes before she does.

The showers are my favorite thing about the dormitories. You use your wand to start them (unless you're a firsty, then you're on your own) and you can get the water to smell like a type of flower. I've always gone with lilac, but today I tried the rose. I smell amazing, by the way.

So, after a refreshing shower, I dug through the wardrobe and found one of Daphne's green skirts and grey sweaters. My legs are a little longer than hers, so when I shortened the skirt, it went way short. The sweater is just a little tight in the chest area, believe it or not, and when I put on the tie and straightened it in the mirror, the mirror whistled. I pulled the pair of lace stockings mother had bought me for my little assignment and put my shoes on, the mirror whistled again. I winked at it, feeling a bit impressed with myself and it blushed. I never knew the mirrors did that.

So, I'm watching everyone get ready, which is pretty interesting if you think about it. I mean, if you think about it, what store would make clothes big enough for Millicent Bulstrode? She's a big lass, and shoving that into a uniform would take talent. And loads of fabric.

Daph is finally ready, so I'll have to go. Besides, I was about to go down there anyway, I'm starving. She hasn't even noticed I stole her clothes!

Score two for Queen Pansy.

__

Pansy, Queen of the Breakfast Foods

September 1997

Free Period, In the Library

What started out at a brilliant plan quickly turned foul. So, double Potions is the first subject I had, and after ravaging the breakfast table Daph and I set out.

Loads of guys stared at us, and at first I thought it was because I had something on my face, but after Daph assured me I didn't I realized it was because I actually looked good.

I looked good. Great even. Like sex on legs.

Maybe not that good, but you get the picture.

So, I took my seat in Potions, and much to my surprise (and delight, at first) Draco had to take the seat next to me. Not because he wanted to, but since all the other seats were taken, and it was the only one left, he had too.

And I'm not going to say score because this was definitely not.

I hiked my skirt up a bit, and just as I had planned, Draco's eyes followed the end of it till it reached the top of my stockings. He grabbed the desk, hard. I looked at him, and when our eyes locked, I arched my eyebrow (or at least that's what I meant to do) and hiked it up a bit more. He bit his bottom lip and his hands clenched the desk harder and dragged his eyes away from my leg. Suddenly, he smirked.

He released the desk and let his hand fall on my knee. Professor Snape came in and began the lesson. "Two can play at this game," he whispered, moving his hand up my thigh a bit more. When Snape told us to come up and get the supplies, I jumped up and ran up to the front of the room.

I collected the supplies slowly, not wanting to go back to the desk and get tortured. I had to turn this game around if I was going to leave with my sanity. This is when the plan went to hell. Seriously.

I took my seat, moving it as far away from him as possible. Then, I thought of something. I pushed the quill off my desk and bent over slowly to pick it up. It almost worked, except he put his hand on my bum and I jumped up, hitting my head on the corner of the desk.

"Shittenknickers," I mumbled, standing up slowly. I grabbed the edge of the desk as the room moved a bit, and in a dizzy streak of brilliance, I fell into him. "Ouch," I moaned, inhaling his scent. Discreetly, of course. "I feel dizzy."

With surprising care, he pushed me into my chair and knelt down in front of me. Talk about compromising situations. "Pansy?" he whispered, pushing my hair out of my face. I knew he was resisting the urge to smirk. His mouth twitched and I let my head fall on my shoulder to hide the blush creeping up my neck. "Are you okay?" he asked, trying to be sincere.

I wanted to slap him. All I had to do was reach out and smack! But no, the logical part of my brain kicked in and I put my head on my arms. "I don't feel so well, you'll have to finish the potion." To make my point clear, I moaned, "My head…" and buried my face so I wouldn't have to look at him smirking.

"Fine, but only because I feel bad for you," he whispered, his lips dangerously close to my face. Again. That pompous bastard. So then--

Whoops, next period in five minutes--

__

Pansy, Queen of Getting Carried Away


	3. More Execution Of Aforementioned Plan

September, 1997

In the Common Room With the Firsties

Gah, I hate the little firsties. Everything, no matter how stupid, gross or otherwise, seems to amuse/fascinate them to the point where I want to grab one of their heads and duff some sense into them. I mean, what is so amusing about a cat's boogies? Even when I was eleven I knew nothing was amusing about them; they were just beyond gross.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, the execution of my not-so-brilliant plan…

So, after my unfortunate run in with that damned desk, Draco didn't stop smirking all day. All damned day! I mean, wouldn't his face hurt from keeping his mouth set like that? Mine hurts after _smiling_ for too long, let alone _smirking._

So, while me and my battered ego hid in the library, I formulated a step-by-step foolproof Plan A. It goes as follows:

1. Wear more foundation. That way it doesn't look like I blush as much.

2. Find a way to force Draco to sit next to me. That way he has to have contact with me, meaning I have more opportunities to get to him.

3. Stop thinking I look like a fat cow. I have not, nor ever will I ever look like Millicent Bulstrode.

4. Steal more of Daphne's clothes. They look better on me anyway.

5. Try and control what I eat (ha-ha, that's funny!) while in the Great Hall. I look better thin, so I'd like to stay this way. And shoving food into one's mouth isn't very attractive.

6. Get a life outside of Draco, that way I don't look desperate.

7. Be nice to the three uglies with whom I have to share a dorm. They may be ugly, but I can get the gossip of who Draco fancies off them easier than having to wait for it.

8. Get more chocolate. I can't be bitchy during my visit from 'the dot'.

9. Be nice to Blaise (once again, ha-ha) since he is Draco's best friend.

10. Try Plan B if nothing else works.

Too bad I don't have a Plan B. Shame…

_Pansy, Queen of Making Lists_

XxXxX

September 1997

In the Common Room, Pissed Off

MUTINEY! THERE IS MUTINEY AFOOT!

I hate Blaise. She knew that. She knew I HATE him. MUTINEY I TELL YOU!

Daphne, the newest edition to the mutinous monsters, accepted Blaise's invitation to go to Hogsmede with him. That little TART accepted! She should know better. For shame Daphne, FOR SHAME!

This morning she tells me Zabini asked her to go to Hogsmede with him. I thought, being as she was my best friend in the whole country, she'd say no. True friends say no to dating your worst enemy. Even truer friends would punch the shit out of him for even _suggesting _something that disgusting and horrible. But no, Daphne is neither because she said _yes._

Even Draco was upset about this. When he was forced to sit next to me in Potions (again, there was no available seats for his bum to grace), he complained about it the entire time. "I can't believe he'd do that to me," he muttered darkly, stirring the potion counterclockwise. "I mean, we've been through everything and he goes and does something like this."

"I know," I snapped back, cutting the rabble root into perfect squares. "She's supposed to be my best friend. Some friends."

And for one blissful moment, we both looked up and stared at each other. His eyes betrayed amusement, and just when I thought he was going to smile, the potion spit up and covered us in disgusting green slime. I sputtered, wiping my face with the sleeve of my shirt (well, it's Daphne's. And I'm not going to wash it so she has to deal with it by herself. Ha.) and I felt that damned blush creeping up into my cheeks. "Damned thing," I swore, dumping in the final ingredients. "This is stupid."

He continued stirring, his face down. "I know."

The rest of the class was unsuccessful (drat) and when we left, I swallowed my pride and walked out with Charlene Borgin and Beatrix Bole. I made a point to ignore Daphne, and she took it because I saw her clinging to Blaise pathetically. Let her suffer…

Charlene and Beatrix are desperately boring, talking about things that happened last year and laughing it up like that isn't the most pathetic thing in the world. I ignored them, almost embarrassed to be seen with the likes of those two bottom feeders, but walking out of a class with them was much, much better than walking out alone. That's the kind of thing a Weasley would do…

Must look like I'm taking notes, the teacher just looked at me… I just caught Draco's eye, and after a few seconds of staring, I tried 'the' technique. In our second year, Daphne and I tried this thing where you kind of stare at the guy for awhile and drag your eyes away slowly. It worked like a charm, but Daphne (who is from here on know as M, for mutineer) needed some help with it, which she won't get because I'm the queen of this flirting technique and since she betrayed me, I will never grace her with the information… But anyway, I tried this on Draco and I had his eyes glued to the side of my head for a good five minutes.

Score three for Queen Pansy.

But now, I fear your Queen sits here in the common room with no one but the firsties for amusement, and despite the fact they are disgusting as all hell, they never fail to amuse me.

_Pansy, Queen of the Disgusting (Yet Very Amusing) Firsties_

XxXxX

September, 1997

In History of Magic

I'm still ignoring Daphne, I mean M.

Draco still isn't madly in love with me.

I'm still overly obsessed with him.

I'm still bored.

It's a right day in hell I tell you.

First, 'M' sat next to me and tried to act like she wasn't dating the boy who called me a frigid bitch every time he saw me for the past four years and everything was normal. I entertained the idea of pushing my eggs into her hair, but the eggs were too damned good to waste on hair like hers, so I took a spoonful of butter and flicked towards the back of her head. It's still there, by the way, and this is third period.

Then, in Potions, that stupid cow Beatrix made a pass at Draco. She saunters up to our desk after Snape leaves the room, bats her eyelashes and says, "So Draco, going to Hogsmede with anyone this weekend?" She stuck out her lower lip, and as she leaned forward on the desk, I clenched my fists underneath the desk so I wouldn't stand up and duff the brains out of that little tart.

Draco looked a bit sick, and frankly, I don't blame him. She's a right sight in the morning, messy, greasy hair, blemishes all over her neck and face. There were sheet marks on the side of her face, and her eye was all squished up like she was squinting. I almost felt bad for her, but then I remembered she was making a pass at my assignment.

Draco laughed. "Actually, yes. I have plans for this weekend."

Beatrix's mouth fell open and didn't close so she looked like a dead fish for a few moments before I finally said, "Why don't you just put your tail between your legs and go lick your wounds someplace else?"

She stomped off, and I don't know if she was more mad at me or the fact that Draco had plans. I, of course, was shocked and rather appalled that he had plans (he was my assignment after all and now I was going to have to find out who this girl was, make a polyjuice potion, kill her, bury the body, go to Hogsmede with him and be back before the damned thing wore off. Goodness, so many things to do…) and whilst I began plotting my murder/getting away with it plans, Snape starting going on about some potion, yada yada yada, that was, until he called on me.

I, of course, was thoroughly absorbed in my plans, so when I heard his slimy voice say my name I jumped. "Well Miss Parkinson?" he demanded.

I panicked. "Well what sir?" I stammered dumbly, feeling the urge to bite my nails.

"What ingredients are needed to make this potion?"

I stammered on about something or other before he got sick of listening to my voice (his words, not mine) and called on someone else. Now that I think about, Snape has always said something about how annoying my voice is. I know he and my mother never got along, but I never expected him to be one to hold grudges. Yeah, sure.

Okay, lunch is just about to begin, and being as last time I had this out at a meal, eggs and butter flew, I think I'll just stop for a bit.

_Pansy, the Queen with the (Apparently) Annoying Voice_


	4. More Plans

October 1997

Safe, In My Dorm

I am definitely blind.

No, I am not kidding you. I felt around the room and bewitched my quill to write for me.

Allow me an explanation.

So I'm walking through the halls, back to the Common room, mind my own business when I hear this noise. It was a crash, and whenever you hear a crash, you know the cause of the crash is never, ever good.

Point in case: Daphne and Theodore Nott.

_Theodore bleeding Nott._

They knocked over a chair, and I could tell because Theodore was still sitting in it. Daphne was on top of him (oh my virgin eyes… how they burn) and she was snogging him like the last bit of oxygen in the world was in his lungs and she was determined to get to it. At first, I thought maybe she had suffocated him, but he somehow managed to get out of the chair and he practically threw her on the teacher's desk (ickle Daphne, stickler for every rule there is, getting her brains snogged out on a teacher's desk) and they continued their disgusting display.

I backed out of the room silently, praying to whatever divine force controls what goes on in this school that my vision would not regress. I managed to get to the Common room and spit out the password before collapsing on the settee in a fit of obscenities.

Honestly, I didn't know Daphne knew Theodore Nott even existed, let alone cheated on Blaise with him. This reminded me of the arseholian boyfriend she was betraying. If it had been anyone (and I do mean anyone) else, I would have congratulated Daphne. Nott, let's just say he's invisible here. Every once in awhile I remember he's in our house, but other than the whole 'my-dad-was-a-Death-Eater' the boy should have been sorted into Ravenclaw. I just realized this is the first time I've seen Nott without his abnormally pointy nose not in a book. Oh goodness, I hope he doesn't somehow poke her eye out when they're snogging. That would be hard to explain…

So after a few terrible visions of Daphne with only one eye, I stumbled up the stairs and into my bed, which is where I currently reside. If I die of some eye related illness, I want my epitaph to state Daphne was the reason for my death and if weren't for her obsession with strange boys, my tragic end could have been avoided. I want it to also state that I was right; Blaise is the worst boyfriend one can have.

I believe Daphne has just entered our sacred dormitory and I must now harass her about Nott. May I live to see tomorrow. Godspeed, journal.

_Pansy, Your Blind Queen_

October, 1997 A Week after the Last Entry about Daphne

The Common Room

I only mention the specific 'a week after the last entry about Daphne' because that little tart threw you out the window. Yes, you've been lying out there for a whole seven days. You see, she didn't steal you until after I went to bed, so I had no idea until I happened to look out the window this morning, only to see a small leather book lying there. I had to accio you in here, because I am afraid of heights and there was no way I was going out on that roof.

So, to make a long, painful story painfully short, I kissed Draco.

Yes, that's right. I, Pansy Parkinson, kissed Draco Malfoy. On the lips, in front of the whole common room.

Score five for Queen Pansy. That's right, this definitely deserves two points.

It was after dinner, and almost everyone was assembled in the Common room, doing schoolwork or something as equally boring. Daphne wasn't talking to me (we made up later) and she was sitting over in the corner with Blaise, but whenever I looked over at her, she was staring holes into Nott's head in the opposite corner. He was oblivious; his pointy nose stuck so far up that book I thought maybe it would just suck him in and end all our miseries, but sadly, that was not the case.

Anyway, back to Draco…

He was sitting on the settee closest to the fireplace, the omnipresent Crabbe and Goyle standing a few meters behind the couch. I could tell by his posture (slumped over, arms spread on the top of the sofa) that he was brooding. About what, I still don't know, but he was.

I sauntered over, sitting at the very edge of the cushion. My magically shortened skirt (which came from my own closet for once) hiked up a bit, but he didn't seem to notice. He was too busy glaring into the fire, but I didn't let that discourage me. I let my hand hover above his knee for a moment before it fell. "What's wrong?" I purred.

He finally stopped shooting daggers into the fire long enough to look over at me and raise a brow. "Nothing. Now get your hand off my knee."

I moved it up his thigh. "Better?" I asked.

He took my hand and dropped it on my lap. "I'm not in the mood for your games Parkinson."

I reached out and let my finger trace from his ear to his jaw. He didn't move; he didn't say anything. We held eye contact, and once I reached his chin, I let my finger move to his lip. Something sparked in his eyes, and there for a moment I thought he was going to bite me. Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised me; whenever Mother and the Malfoys were getting along when I was younger, he would come over to play and he bit me once. Needless to say, I bit him back and we left it at that. Now though, if he had bitten me, I don't know what I would have done.

I leaned in and kissed him; nothing hot or heavy, but I have to admit, I saw stars afterwards. He opened his mouth just a little bit, but before it could get any deeper, I pulled back.

His mouth was slightly open and he looked like I felt. I touched his cheek and rose, resisting the urge to run up the stairs and fling myself on my bed. My ears were ringing and I was positive my cheeks were red.

I finally made it up the stairs, and about the moment I turned around Daphne flew up the stairs. We stared at each other for several long moments before she flung herself at me. We fell back onto my bed and she hugged me so tight I was afraid she'd pop my head off. "Pansy!" she squealed.

I pushed her off me and laughed. It had been awhile since Daphne and I laughed together, but after a few minutes of hysterics, she sat up and looked at me. "Blaise doesn't know," she said, looking at her hands. Her nails are always perfectly lacquered and I've always been jealous (not that I would ever admit that). "I don't want him to know. I'll- I'll sort this out myself."

I sat up too, pulling my knees to my chest. "I won't say a thing."

Uh oh, dinner. And since I don't plan on missing it, I must leave.

_Pansy, Queen of Daphne's Dirty Little Secret_

October 1997

Charms

So Daphne and I have made up, meaning the planets have realigned and everything is right in the world. We sat next to each other at breakfast, which even though I'd rather die than admit this out loud, there's a reason why she's my best friend. Once you get past her 'worship-the-ground-I-walk-on' façade, she has the dirtiest mouth I've ever heard. Must be all that extended time with Nott.

Speaking of which, guess who got a flower this morning…

No, it wasn't me, unfortunately.

Anyway… I digress. Being as the planets have realigned and everything is right in the world, Daphne and I are having our monthly "Girls' Night" this Saturday (tomorrow), meaning the chocolate fountain shall overflow with it's chocolaty caramel goodness. Must stock up next Hogsmede visit…

Speaking of Hogsmede, I found out who Draco is taking.

Her name is Guinevere Pritchard, and she's a sixth year Slytherin. Apparently, Daphne and Blaise have a double date with them tomorrow, and Daphne hates her. One because she has perfectly white teeth (Daphne has this strange thing about girls with perfectly straight white teeth. I have no clue where it came from, but apparently it annoys her to no end. It was all she could talk about, and her being annoyed with it is starting to annoy me, but back to the point of the story…) and two because she used to have a thing for 'Theo' as Daphne so affectionately calls him. The entire time Daphne was talking about her she was digging her quill into her parchment, and it wasn't until the quill snapped that she realized what she had been doing.

I casually suggested that we pull a little revenge on her for having such perfectly straight white teeth and Daphne got all excited, so now we must come up with ideas.

1. Hex her teeth so they are crooked and yellow. We can put a big gap in the front so her voice gets all messed up when the air whistles through the gap. (Daphne's idea)

2. Cut her hair when she's asleep and take down all the mirrors so she doesn't know.

3. Hex her clothes so they all turn into big, shapeless bags.

4. Hex her mouth so all her teeth are gone. (Once again, Daphne's idea)

5. Kidnap her, make a Polyjuice potion, kill her, bury the body, go to Hogsmede with him and be back before it wore off, otherwise known as the original plan

Ah, so many options… so little time.

Pansy, Queen with Murder- I mean, Plans (without the 'murder' part)

October 1997

The Dorm, Girls' Night

Well, today was a not as much as a disaster as I figured it would be. Some people might even call it a small victory, but I shall do no such thing.

I lied. It was a small, teeny-weeny, itty-bitty victory for Queen Pansy. Score six for moi.

Daphne set it up so they (as in Blaise, Draco, Guinevere and herself) would be in the Three Broomsticks at exactly one thirty. I couldn't go there alone, being as that would insinuate I have no dignity and being as I have plenty of dignity, I simply couldn't go alone. So Daphne talks Nott into officially asking me, meaning Nott and I had to remain in close contact for longer than fifteen minutes.

That in and of itself was a disaster.

We sat at a table in the corner, not making eye contact, not speaking, not doing anything except staring at the table in the opposite corner. We didn't even order food, we just stared, and that gave me a creepy stalker feeling but as long as he was doing it, I was going to as well.

Every time Blaise touched Daphne, Nott made a low growling sound. The first time I heard it I thought it was my stomach, being as I hadn't been able to eat breakfast and there was food being served to other people so it was only natural my stomach would growl, but for once it wasn't. There was even one time Blaise leaned over and kissed Daphne's cheek and Nott literally fell off his chair. There for a minute I thought there might be a scene, but Nott just stood, brushed himself off and left.

I probably should have followed him, but I didn't. I wanted to see what Guinevere and Draco were up to.

It wasn't halfway through before Draco tried putting his hand on her knee, and she glared at him. He pulled his hand away, and about five minutes later he tried again, this time she hit him and he backed off for good. They didn't talk the rest of the time, and I had to admit, the feeling of pure glee inside me was threatening to burst.

I stood to use the loos, but as I was coming out, I ran smack into Draco.

"Ah, Parkinson," he drawled, crossing his arms and smirking. Oh how I have come to loathe that smirk. "Just couldn't stay away, could you?"

I smiled, clasping my hands to keep them from shaking. Honestly, I was no good at comebacks. "I also saw you just couldn't stay away from Guinevere's knee. You would think after the first rejection you'd just give up."

His smirk deepened into a frown. "Well," he snapped, straightening up. "At least I got a date."

My smile widened. _I love you Daph… _"Actually I was here with Nott. He was feeling a bit sick so he stepped out for a breath of fresh air. I think I'll go join him, if you'll excuse me."

I brushed past him, being sure my hand brushed his arm. I was positive my cheeks were flaming. I swear I can't even look at the boy for more than five minutes without blushing. After pushing through the door, I turned around in time to see his scornful look. My stomach dropped, but right before the door swished shut the look changed. I imagined it was longing, but the door shut and I wasn't about to open it up again and check.

I walked around a bit, not daring to go back to the carriages in case they were anywhere near there. After a bit of wandering, I happened upon Nott.

He was sitting in an alley, smoking a Muggle cigarette. I didn't know he knew what they were (considering I only found out when Mother send me to France last year, and after trying one I wanted to swallow soap to get the taste out of my mouth.) He was sitting down (probably in a pile of muck being as those alleys aren't the cleanest things), and he was repeatedly hitting the back of his head against the wall. He'd stop long enough to take a drag, then start it back up. It would have been funnier if he didn't look so depressed.

I lied. It was still pretty funny.

So I walked up next to him and sat down, after cleaning the spot up a bit first, of course. He looked over at me and rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. I figured this would be the closest thing to an invitation I'd ever get, so I sat down.

He rummaged around in that thick overcoat he always wears and pulled out the cig pack and offered me one. I took it, but I didn't light it. "Daphne doesn't like smokers," I told him. It wasn't a fact, she had never told me if she had a preference or not, but it could have been the truth.

He laughed. "Too bad she got me hooked."

Cue awkward silence.

"You're her best friend, right?"

I looked over at him, and when he realized I wasn't going to answer until he looked at me, he turned his head towards me. "You could say that," I told him, twirling the cig. "Why?"

He turned his face away. "Nothing."

He rose, brushing his coat off before extending his hand to me. I didn't take it, but I did offer a small (note: tiny) smile. "Thanks, but I think not."

He dropped the cig and stepped on it before shoving his hands in his coat pockets. "We better be heading back."

"Yes, wouldn't want to miss Daphne, now would we?"

He didn't say anything, and he hasn't even made eye contact with me since then, but that's okay. Maybe Nott isn't as bad as I thought he was.

Daphne just got here and surprise! Her clothes are rumpled, her hair is down and the back of her skirt is so wrinkled her knickers are visible. I'm going to wait… bloody rats she just noticed. Oh well, time for Girls' Night so I must go. Tomorrow I will tell you all the dirty secrets I learned, and life will go on.

So long and goodnight.

Pansy, Queen of the Chocolate Sitting in front of Her


End file.
